Where the Wind Takes Me, So Shall I Be
by NatBraaaat
Summary: The last thing she heard before her hearing went was, "Don't worry, we'll see each other again, like I said, we're good friends, Princess." And she was gone, done with her life, ready to move on. And so, her life ended. So another could begin.


NEW STORY! I hope you guys like it, I worked really hard, time to fall in love with new characters. :) I'm kind of already in love with them myself! Well, let's get some feedback. :) I'm working really hard so that you know that I'm back! :D Well, tell me what you think.

:)Natalie

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><p>A blade flew wickedly fast, grazing the very edge of the very slight girl's neck, black hair covering up the tattoo it had just pierced, she flinched so hard she was almost thrown off her path. She smelled the blood that now mixed with the smell of sweat—and fear… A fear so intense you could almost see it in a streak as the man in black chased behind her through the tangled trees. Her accelerated heartbeat pulsed thickly in her ears at a humming bird's wing's speed.<p>

Desperation clouded her hazel eyes and pushed her legs faster than she had ever ran. She prayed there was some way to throw the man off her trail, but as she felt another blade nick her shoulder with more force the prayers of living yielded completely, leaving her miserably alone in her thoughts without a hope. She thought of her family, of all that she would never see again, her life, and her room, and her dog Trixi. She was losing everything and this was confirmed when another blade grazed the back of her leg, and though she wasn't too worried about losing blood, she felt it on her leg flowing in a rapid wave. Her thoughts turned to a void of panic. A forest she used to feel safe in turned into her own worst fear and it's all His fault, when He showed up from thin air, no past to talk about. This made him that much more interesting, intriguing—mysterious.

She pulled her thoughts away from Him, he was dead to her now that this has started, and from what he says it will never stop. Never.  
>She just had to bare it.<br>Just as she thought this a searing pain went through her abdomen, that was it, the man had four knives, the last one finally caught her, prodding from her stomach like a deformed bellybutton ring. She fell to her knees, betrayed and alone and in pain. The blood flowed freely, making the ground turn a deep red, ironic for the same color that was her favorite was killing her, flowing out so fast that she got dizzy, and the color soon faded—everything faded. She thought she was out, but the world came back quickly, only for a moment, her complete range of vision was covered by the ski mask-clad face of the man who was following her, "Princess, you comfortable?"

She growled acidically, "Very," But caught her breath as the pain worsened with speech, she closed her eyes, waiting for the inevitable veil from the next world to fall over her as she is taken from the world she knew, the masked man to do what he willed with her body, she didn't really care, she just wanted to float away from her troubles and the pain.  
>The last thing she heard before her hearing went was, "Don't worry, we'll see each other again, like I said, we're good friends, Princess."<p>

And she was gone, done with her life, ready to move on to the next place. And so, her life ended.

So another could begin.

_I don't like this._ Kayah thought nervously, _I don't like this one bit._

She was on the corner of some street in the run down part of the town. The sky was darkening quickly, the air ice cold and she didn't have a jacket. The thugs on the corner were eyeing her expectantly, probably deciding if she had anything worth conveniently taking from her. Kayah rolled her eyes and kept walking, knowing that even if they did rob her, they would find nothing.

"Hey, Toots!" a burly looking one called to her as she started walking towards the bus stop on the other side of the street, "Why don't you come over here!"

"You know," she called back casually, "I don't really mingle with people that sound like they're from old time movies. But thank you for the invite, maybe next time." She laughed softly, hoping she conveyed that she didn't have time for these guys.

"Hey bitch!" another one said, cutting her off from her path, "Who do you think you are talking to Big Mike like that?"

"Oh, so he doesn't only sound like an old time movie, but he also has the most expectant name for a thug ever?" She laughed, passing the smaller thug up, this one seemed to look nicer than the other, more sophisticated than most thugs would, "I don't want to deal with you guys, I also don't have any money, and this purse was three dollars at a thrift store. So you can take both if you'd like, but I really have to catch this next bus," she looked over as the bus came down the road towards her, "So, can we make this snappy?"

The smaller thug got into her face and smacked her across it, hard, she fell to the ground face first. The feeling of gravel tearing up her cheek was not a welcome feeling in the slightest. She was scared to sit up and look at him, wondering if he would hurt her more.

"Don't ever talk to me like that, ever again, princess," the blood left her face at the sound of the nickname and she almost cried, but she didn't know why. Her heart was racing fast than the flap of a hummingbird's wing, like it knew what was going on, "See you soon."

The bus was beside her then. She was scared to sit up, because she was nervous that he was still there, still waiting to hit her again. "Are you getting on the bus miss?" The bus driver asked cautiously, the door open, the engine idle.

Kayah got up slowly, holding her raw bleeding cheek; she climbed onto the city bus and made her way to the back. Of course that was what would have happened to her. She was not pretty—plain black hair and icy blue eyes that almost had no pigment to them. She was short and curvy, her skin was not always clear and she almost never wore anything that wasn't thrift store sold. She lived alone in a broken down apartment, her parents both died when she was fourteen and her aunt was killed in a merciless robbing of their apartment two years after, she was now eighteen. There was no help when you are considered legal. She already was out of high school, but to feed her Aunt's drug addiction she had no more college fund to go get a degree. She had an average job as a clerk at a big time bank, but they paid next to nothing, honestly all the money that she got went to keeping the lights and the heat in her small, up state Colorado home.

A clown teeters onto the bus, his face crusty with old clown make up that peeled away from his old, tired face in large quantities. Around his eyes the naked flesh was red, his green eyes blood shot. The clown's costume was muddy and torn and bloody, Kayah wasn't sure what to make of him, a hobo? A clown with a bad gig? The clown staggered in the aisle zigzagging in a drunk or tired way, she wasn't sure which. He fell into a woman's lap and scaring her baby. It started to cry. The bus driver then turned on the walk way lights made the tiny crowd on the bus squint, as soon as Kayah's eyes got used to the new light she noticed that the clown looks no better in the light then it did in the dark. He got up, his hair sticky with newly accumulated gum from the bus floor and he kept walking. Kayah felt in the pit of her stomach that the empty chair beside her would be the one that he picked.

She was never wrong.

He triped into her open bus seat and Kayah stared as he climbed to a hunched sitting position, and again, her gut told her that this bus ride would be dreadful. She looked away quickly as he looks at her, for fear that eye contact would force a conversation and Kayah did not enjoy conversations. At all. She remembered her small outdated Ipod that her parents bought her long ago, pulled it out and turn up the song, worried that he would try to talk to her, but nothing could drowned out his thoughts that invaded her mind. His psyche whined on about death, something Kayah could not stand.

She grabbed for the rope above her head and pulled hard telling the bus driver that she wanted off and stood, the clown's thoughts went sad because he felt that he had forced Kayah to get off of the bus because he was such a wreck. She knew he was right, but she just couldn't take his emotions worsening her already bad mood. Kayah pushed her long black hair over her shoulder to hide her bloody face.

After Kayah got off the bus she walked in a random direction, starting to shiver again. She did not notice where she was going; her feet seemed to have a mind of their own and started to carry her towards her apartment building.

Kayah had never been normal.

She knew that before she learned her parents' name.

Sometimes she would dream that she had a better life coming. That her prince was on his way to take her from her hell hole of a life. He would come and sweep her off her feet, take her to a castle where everyone took care of them and they had no troubles ever. He would be dangerously beautiful. With a smile that would make her knees jelly.

No one looked like that in her town.

The people of Dove Creek Colorado were not anything, but small town folk. Seven hundred twenty eight strong. Just enough to keep your business hidden, so few that everyone knew their neighbor's neighbors.

There were no mansions, no one had a maid or servant in this town, and she had no money to move, so her dreams were out the window.

"Shit!" She muttered, accidently hitting into her door, she thought she had opened it, but when she turned the knob it didn't budge. She looked at the door accusingly, her cheek in more pain. Then did she see the owner's lock had been turned to lock down, meaning she was kicked out. She was in shock, how could this happen? She wasn't late on the bill was she? She couldn't have been!

Kayah marched down the hall to Mr. Marx room, the owner, and knocked loudly. She didn't care that it was four in the morning.

"What do you want?" Mr. Marx asked, rubbing his beady eyes with his massive fist. He was a tall, ill-groomed man. He did nothing as a job but own the building and drinks an unimaginable amount of cheap beer. Kayah could hear his loud television in the hall, some kind of moaning was going on and she was very much happy that she wasn't ever invited in.

"Why did you lock my apartment?" she asked angrily, "I didn't miss my payment!"

"Yes, you did."

"My name is Kayah Thandore, I live in apartment one hundred fourteen, and I paid you last week!" She shouted at him.

He glared at her, his eyes didn't look happy at all, his thoughts said to her, _I'm not letting this bitch in unless she pays a second time; I'm missing my favorite part because this girl has guts. Stupid guts. _He shook his head and stomped down the hall, opened her door, and stomped away without a backwards glance. He mumbled about how much he didn't like her and walked away.

_Sleeeeep! _She thought, tiredly and walked into her house, she was done with all of this, all of the disappointment, all of the sadness. She jumped into her bed, in her one room apartment, fully clothed and fell asleep quickly.

Audin stood by the bed of his soulmate, her hair was thrown over her face just so, and the result was: he couldn't see her beautiful face. He wanted to push her hair away and touch her cheek, kiss her lips, hold her like the world would end if he let go.

He didn't want to wake her, he knew from experience that she hated to have her personal privacy compromised, and him being at her place was very much an invasion of her privacy.

"I love you," he said out loud, testing the words as quietly as the whisper of the wind. Then he was out the window, he wanted to meet his beloved, but not yet.

Not yet, she wasn't ready.

But soon.

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><p>Is it bad, okay, amazing, what? Let me know! New chapter coming very soon! :D<p> 


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